


I don't love you but I always will

by dearpassengers



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Combeferre & Enjolras Platonic Life Partners, Comfort Reading, Domestic Fluff, Gen, Good Friend Combeferre, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Platonic Relationships, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-29
Updated: 2019-05-29
Packaged: 2020-03-27 12:29:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19012924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dearpassengers/pseuds/dearpassengers
Summary: Isn't it nice to have someone by your side to take care of you for yourself?Or Enjolras is having a bit of a headache, and Combeferre helps.Short one-shot completed fic.





	I don't love you but I always will

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first completed fic for les mis, there may be more coming. English is not my first language, and this work is unbeta'd, so any comment pointing out mistakes or telling me what you think would be appreciated!
> 
> Title is from the song 'poison and wine'.

Enjolras puts down the book he’s been staring for quite some time with more force than possibly needed. He doesn’t even bother to sigh, just buries his face inside his hands.

Combeferre emerges from the kitchen with a enquiring look, then he silently retreats and brings over two mugs of steaming tea. He sets the mugs within Enjolras’ reach, and moves a chair over to sit next to Enjolras.

Aware of the meaning of the small noise and maybe the smell of tea, Enjolras sits up straighter, while not looking at Combeferre, mutters softly, “Thank you.” He reaches for his mug, he can tell which his is by this point, without any conscious effort- not because Combeferre has placed his mug closer to him and having the handle positioned exactly right. He nurses the mug and exhales, almost a sigh.

It sounds like a perfect sigh to Combeferre. He tries calmly, “Are you okay? Is something bothering you?”

Enjolras doesn’t look up, “I’m just feeling restless, I guess. And a headache.”

Combeferre hums thoughtfully, “A bad one?”

Enjolras shakes his head, “No, it’s not that. It just gets more irritating every time and it won’t go away.”

“Would you mind to describe how it feels? Like a throbbing pain or a tension kind? And the intensity of the pain of course, from a scale of one to t-”

Enjolras cuts in, wincing, “Slow down ‘Ferre, I’m not one of your patients.”

“Well I’d love to be your doctor though. Do you mind telling me? I want to see if I can help.”

“Uhh, okay.” A short pause. “Tension. Both sides and back. Feels like something wraps around my head. It’s only a- a three but it’s practically non-stop.” Enjolras says that in one breath, looking embarrassed as he uses the mug to cover the lower half of his face. Still no eye contact.

“Do you have any other discomfort related to your head? Anything sharp and can’t be ignored?”

“Not at all.” Enjolras gets a sense that Combeferre is trying to rule out the more serious illnesses.

“Well, without a head CT we cannot be entirely sure. How long has this-” Combeferre vaguely gestures at Enjolras’ head, “-been going on? Has it ever happened before?”

“A few days? Maybe a week or so. It’s, uh, happened before. I did not recall doing anything before I realised it went away.” He searches his memory, “Probably lasted a couple of months.”

Combeferre has a rough idea of what it is by now, but he does want to spare Enjolras from knowing, thinking, worrying, etc. A vicious cycle as it is. Before this doctor-patient make-believe is too much for Enjolras, Combeferre decides. He rises to his feet, switching back to friend mode, smiles, “Do you want to get some rest? We can just chat about random things and relax a bit.”

Enjolras nods. He stands up, rather robotically, and leads Combeferre to his room. They both sit on Enjolras’ bed.

Combeferre suggests, “Why don’t you lie down here? It may help with the pain.”

Enjolras gives an undignified snort, “Lying down only makes me register the pain.” Despite what he just said, he lies down. Pausing a moment, he sighs, moves his head and rests it on Combeferre’s lap. He murmurs, “Hope you don’t mind, ‘Ferre.”

Combeferre chuckles, “Of course not. Close your eyes.”

Enjolras quickly and willingly obeys.

Combeferre begins to tell Grimm’s fairy tales- the first thing off the top of his head. He uses his most gentle and soothing voice, trying to be accurate and frankly, non-ridiculous. He has an excellent memory- he was told- and he gladly thinks to himself that he is being useful. As the same time, he places his hands on Enjolras’ temples, lays still for a second, then begins to massage. He uses his thumb and knuckles for stronger force, rubbing the smallest of circles from Enjolras’ temples to his forehead, then back to the temples again and slowly moves towards the back of his head. He keeps his story-telling at the same time.

Enjolras is beyond impressed. He makes a curious noise when Combeferre first started and soon melts into Combeferre’s lap. He feels so good that he almost groans in pleasure. Maybe he does. He can’t bring himself to care anymore. Who needs to care about anything when magic is happening?

Seems to have heard what Enjolras secretly thinks, Combeferre repeats with his fingers, again and again. Finally, when he finished Hans and his Wife Gretel, he stops and smiles, “I hope you’re feeling better?”

Enjolras replies with a sound that is definitely a moan, “Yes, yes, ‘Ferre. Wow. Thank you, thank you so much. What- How-”

Combeferre grins, “That’s actually a secret that no one needs to know, or they might queue up for this, don’t you think? I hate to disappoint them.” 

Enjolras laughs out loud, “I am the first in queue. I consider myself very lucky.”

Combeferre blushes slightly, his features softens, “Technically speaking, you are my guinea pig by being the first, I’m just glad I didn’t destroy you.”

Enjolras actually pouts and says simply, “You would never.”

Feeling his face warmer, Combeferre tries to change the topic, “I may need you to sit up if that’s okay?” Then he hastily adds, “You can lean against me all you want.”

Enjolras looks like he wants to ask why, but he just does as he’s told. He does lean against Combeferre, of course.

Combeferre adjusts himself a little and declares, “If there is any unbearable pain just let me know.” Without leaving time for Enjolras to ask questions, he starts Roland and May-Bird and his hands are on Enjolras’ shoulders, massaging, again.

Enjolras does not see that coming.

His muscles scream for the sudden pain but he doesn’t flinch, soon enough, the pain subsides and is replaced by relief, and he could feel that his neck and shoulder are no longer stiff as they always are. He feels light- as a feather, as some might put it. Semantics, really- not caring.

Enjolras is fairly sure he missed a whole page of that tale, maybe two, but this is so good. He barely registers what Combeferre seems to be saying but a mere sound of his soothing voice. He feels like he’s rising up and sinking down at the same time. His eyes droopy.

After a while, Enjolras feels he’s being carefully put on his pillow, his cover soon joins him. He sighs in contentment, curls himself up, and lets sleep claims him.

When he wakes up it’s already dark outside. He adjusts his eyes and walk to the living room, where Combeferre is on the couch reading a book. He sits next to Combeferre, Combeferre in turn puts down his book and gives a genuine smile, “Are you feeling better?”

Enjolras looks like he wants to laugh and hug Combeferre, but he settles for furious nodding, “Yes, definitely better. Thank you. I- I don’t know- Where-”

Combeferre beams, “Any time. Human anatomy, if you’re curious.”

Enjolras laughs and shakes his head, “You are a man with hidden talents, ‘Ferre.”

Combeferre grins, “Glad I could help.” Then his expression changes, “Your headache may still be back and haunt you for some time. Good posture, plenty of rest, spare your worries, things should get better soon.” He pauses, the unsaid “a massage is always available” hangs in the air. Enjolras smiles.


End file.
